


Blue stains, Big World

by thewaywardwriter



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6818785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewaywardwriter/pseuds/thewaywardwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Where are you from?”</p><p>The question takes me off guard. I can hardly explain where my clothes come from, let alone where I come from. </p><p>But that’s not what concerns me.</p><p>What concerns me is that there are no girls in Middle Earth that have black hair stained with blue and purple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue stains, Big World

"You're new," the man said with a smile. The way he looks at me is all too familiar, as well as where I am.

His hair is the strawberry blonde native to the people of Rohan and even if the village - and the stranger - is unrecognizable to me, the plain of brown grass is evident of where in Middle Earth I am.

"Very," I say. He's a good eight inches taller than me, at least. It's hard to tell. I've never been good with heights.

"Do you mind telling me where I am? I was looking for the capitol, I just...I wanted to make sure I was headed in the right direction."

I'm already stumbling backwards at this point and still babbling, the 'Ah's' and 'Uhm's' slipping out of my mouth. Not that I can go far. There is still the circle of riders to consider.

The way he looks at me still makes me uncomfortable and it angers me enough to stand straight and shout as much defience at him as humanely possible without saying anything.

It also allows me to observe him closely without worrying about having anything to say.

His hair is more brown than strawberry blonde and the grease in his hair has me itching to rub shampoo and my fingers through it. He is an older gentlemen too, telltale by his thinning hair and through the laugh lines decorating his face.

I can't tell anything from his armor either on initial sight, but then, I've never been an expert on armor style.

"Don't be scared," he says, "I won't hurt you. I'm Gamling."

I shake my head, hoping that not only will he see that I can barely understand him, but that he won't see that I recognized the name.

I barely even have time to be shocked. Gamling's motioned to my clothing and has said something that sounds like "Where are you from?"

It's then and only then that I realize how I must look. My dress might be considered normal enough, especially in the Shire or Bree, even though it's black and laced with brightly colored flowers.

The brassiere I know doesn't exist yet, but that's not what worries me. It's my hair that worries me. There's no one in Middle Earth that has black hair stained with blue and purple.

Then comes the whicker of a horse that's way too close for comfort and the land of someone's hand on the my shoulder has me gasping for air.

"At ease, Gamling," Gandalf the White smiles, "She's with me."

As if there couldn't be any more surprises. I hear it in English and not the heavily accented Westron that Gamling spoke to me in.

There's more discussion at this point, and then someone else steps through the crowd of horses towards us. I can't see the village from where I am anymore, but I can see now that it is where this well protected party is going.

It's Edoras. It's Edoras that they're headed and I can't help but feel so relieved to be deposited here.

Gandalf's hand on my shoulder tightens as he whispers out of the corner of his mouth, "Bow."

I drop as slowly as I can, careful at keeping my body somewhere between bent fully at the waist and standing straight and tense.

The stranger that Gamling announces as "Eomer King" offers her a hand to kiss. The offer sets me shaking as I kiss his hand, though it's more out of awe of where I am and whose company I'm in, not of Eomer's presence.

Eomer, the Lady Arwen and her newly crowned husband, as well as the Lady Eowyn and several other renowned warriors of the Third Age...

It's almost too much to bear.

"Stand," Eomer says suddenly and the joy of being able to understand him jolts through me so quickly, it takes everything for me to not jerk up in amazement.

"Have you a name child?" His sister requests quietly of me and I nod.

"It's Adrienne, your highness," I reply with another partial bow, "How wonderful to see you."

Her smile is catching, and I am enamoured nearly instantly.

"Welcome to Rohan, Miss Adrienne."

**Author's Note:**

> For self insert week 2k16 on Tumblr. Because why the hell not!


End file.
